The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [89]
The dark-skinned woman nodded. “I heard the whole thing. But you were right to tell him, Deanna.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. It’s like they say, the truth always hurts—but, except in the cases of fashions and hairstyles, honesty is the best policy.”
“Thanks, Guinan,” Troi said, with a warm smile at the hostess. “Sometimes even the counselor needs a little counsel. Especially if it’s as wise as yours.”
The hostess picked up the dish and started away. “Another sundae, coming right up.”
Selar did not often come to Ten-Forward alone, but after overseeing the transfer of all those patients, she felt the need for a quiet moment to reflect. Besides, she had forgotten to eat today, and she was hungry.
Entering through the double wood doors, she walked into the lounge and sat down at the bar. Guinan gave her a welcoming smile and asked, “What will it be, Lieutenant?”
Selar considered for a moment. “Does your selection include plomeek soup?”
“The best you’ll find outside of Vulcan,” the hostess promised. “Coming right up.”
When the soup arrived, Selar’s nostrils twitched at the aroma, and her stomach tightened hungrily. She began eating, pausing only when the bowl was empty. Without being asked, Guinan pushed a bowl of celery sticks and carrots with a tofu dip across the bar, and a glass of sparkling water. “Rough mission,” the hostess said, her dark eyes observant, missing nothing.
Selar dipped a carrot into the seasoned dip and took a bite. She nodded silent agreement as she chewed. Then, when she had swallowed, she said, half surprised at herself for feeling the urge to confide in the hostess, “It may be my last mission with the Enterprise, Guinan.”
The dark-skinned woman raised one nearly hairless eyebrow. “Really? Where are you going? Have you been transferred?”
“Not precisely. Starfleet has placed me on an indefinite leave of absence so that I may take the offer of a position with the Vulcan Science Academy,” the doctor said. “I will be head of bioelectronic research.”
Guinan looked suitably impressed. “When will you be leaving?”
“When the Enterprise departs tomorrow, I will not be on her,” the lieutenant said. “I will remain at the starbase to care for the patients, and when some of them are transshipped to Vulcan next week, I will accompany them there.”
“Oh, you’re really short-timing it, aren’t you?”
Selar nodded.
“I guess after this last mission, it’ll be a relief to have peace and quiet to do research,” the hostess said, polishing the glowing bar with a cloth. “In other words, you won’t miss us much.”
“I will miss the Enterprise,” Selar admitted. “But at least the person I will miss most will be on the same world with me, so I will be able to visit her occasionally.”
“Who is that?”
“Thala, the little Andorian girl who lost her father recently.” Selar took a celery stick, dipped it slowly and thoroughly into the tofu, then began to munch.
“I know Thala. You’ve brought her in here several times, and so has Wesley. So she’s going to Vulcan? With you?”
“Not exactly. I will be traveling aboard a Starfleet medical ship. But I have purchased a ticket for Thala aboard a passenger liner that is leaving at almost the same time as the Lancet, my ship. We will arrive on Vulcan within a day of each other.”
“What will happen to Thala then?”
“I intend to see that she is placed in an excellent medical and teaching facility, so she can receive a proper education and the best treatment for her blindness. I believe that ultimately she will be able to receive prosthetic eyes that will enable her to do anything she wishes in life. Developing prosthetics for Andorians will be one of my first priorities.”
“That’s commendable of you,” Guinan said, beginning to polish again. Selar was about to mention to the other that she had already done that section of the bar when the hostess observed blandly, “It’s nice that the little girl will be in a really good institution, too … but I’m not sure that any institution can take the place of a real home.”
“I know that,” Selar